So last weekend was a funny business; I released a novel on the Friday, just in time to pack up my equipment and go gardening, whereupon I hedge trimmed right through a piece of spectacularly brittle electric wiring in the haze of five years work gone public.

I’ll hasten to add that the fencing was turned off. Also, there were no accidents during the considerable clear up operation with the clippings afterwards, just some plodding about on a quad bike with a tightly engineered trailer attached. At the end of the day I left the trailer behind and took the quad on a writers’ celebration around some fields. I highly recommend this for celebrations of all kinds. Explaining this to one of those wild hill-men that happens to be an older brother of mine, his face went grave. He doesn’t like the stability issues that surround quadding, and while I can’t blame him, I couldn’t convince him that I had the situation under control either. He reminded me that you only get one spine, and that mine was already ‘a crock of shit’. After another beer he offered to go start up his motocross bike for me to have a burn around on. I reminded him that I haven’t done that since I took his last bike from a standing start into a hedge. The stupid auto clutch literally launches you off the mark. We met in the middle and played some pool instead. At some time during that he admitted that the proof copy of my novel had made him cry. I strained to point out that it was a comedy, but he said that was just subterfuge for the opportunities to stick the knife in. If you end up feeling the same… I withhold all responsibility. Purchase The Meifod Claw to find out for yourself!

And the rest of my weekend was great too. Apart from having to do an emergency run to a local vets with one of Arthur’s hedgehogs. He doesn’t get to have flashing lights or a siren on his car, but it does mean that he doesn’t have to wear his seatbelt apparently. No-one told the in-car seatbelt warning sound though, so it was near enough an emergency vehicle. Not for the hedgehog though; though that wasn’t for a lack of trying. He went all cold in my hands on the car ride, yet looked strangely sage about it all.

In unpredictable news, a Chinese machining company has got in touch with Serious Biscuits to see if we’d be interested in some top-of-the-line biscuit making machinery. A bad move on their part as now I’m certainly interested in stringing them along from my end. I want meetings, I want demonstrations, and I want biscuit tasters. And I want to record the whole thing for my podcast, Cave Mind. Arthur is up for a meeting with them. He loves biscuits so they might even actually get some business out of him. I’m more than happy with my local ginger nut vendor, though.

That should about catch up with the order of things this end. If I go on anymore then I’m not going to be able to bugger off and carry on with writing The Brine in Me; and I just got up to an exciting bit with some articulated lorry mishaps. You’ll find out what happens, even if you just go to one of those greasy webholdings and download it all for nowt. I saw a link today that shows you how to do it all for free. I say there’s always an exchange though, even if the currency is moral.

However! I’m a man who likes to be proved bang out of order, so if hooky novels are your thing, go ahead and prove my moral quandary wrong by ordering The Meifod Claw as an e-reader, then e-mail me to let me know. I’ll send you a personal apology while listening to my ripped copy of New Jersey Kings. Perhaps it’ll be the start of a correspondence.

Let’s move forward, together. Did I just steal that from the BNP? The nicking just goes off everywhere, doesn’t it…

Curious to the tame, oblivious to the brain.JW Bowe xx

P.S! Anna had already urged me not to throw my marble into the inflatable swimming pool on the lawn before I did. I’d been asked if they float and having thought about it, I couldn’t remember. They don’t, even though they look like they could have a fair go at it. It didn’t even try; furthermore, it was a blue marble (the same colour as the bottom of pool). I haven’t been able to find it since.

If you enjoyed this blog, and you’re impatient for something else to read, feel free to bunch up close to a free sample chapter from JW Bowe’s debut novel, The Meifod Claw, which is available now at Amazon, iTunes and on various other international eReaders.

You can also double up your sampling by following this link to the forthcoming fictional autobiography of The Meifod Claw’s wheelchair-in-chief, Derek Gainsborough. His life and apologies will be released next year under the sail of The Brine in Me.

JW Bowe can also be unearthed on YouTube and in various other ways through the Serious Biscuits homepage. Scroll down for further links, action and disclaimers.

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Published by JW Bowe

JW Bowe is a writer and general broadcast imaginist. He operates under the strict guidelines of fun without cruelty, then runs over it all with counter intuition before checking back in with production and the rules of compliance. If that doesn’t work he’ll go and rev up some two stroke machinery in the woods until he feels better.
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